After a period of calm, he would always relapse. The most frustrating part for me was the incident involving him and a classmate. She was my classmate, and we had a decent relationship. However, on the day before she resigned and went home, she told me that he had bullied her, made inappropriate advances, and did irregular things. He also disclosed every detail of the event to another classmate, Min. But he didn't deny any of it. I didn't know who to trust anymore. Moreover, since she was leaving soon, after asking about the matter several times without receiving answers, I decided not to dwell on it anymore and continued living quietly. We occasionally argued over sending text messages. Perhaps out of fear, I no longer dared to let go of him completely.
I don't know why there were always so many problems between us, why we kept arguing, and why each argument was always about the same thing—text messages! That day was just like any other ordinary workday. Since it was the end of the month, we usually worked overtime, but this time we finished our tasks by 5:00 PM. After work, I took some fruits, mineral water, and milk back home because those were his preferences. However, when I got home, I experienced the first heartache since he came to Hangzhou because I forgot to bring the keys. After knocking on the door for a long time, he finally came out but closed the door behind him, preventing me from entering directly. I already knew what had happened. I gave in entirely and asked that girl to leave because I didn't want to see her. He didn't give me too many explanations, and I didn't ask too many questions either. I thought such tolerance would make him appreciate me, but the next morning, that girl appeared again. I didn't confront her, and he didn't tell me that the girl who claimed to have knocked on the wrong door was the same girl who was in his room the previous night. There was a cassette tape left in the room from the previous night. I chased after her, returned the cassette tape without saying much, hoping she would realize her mistake on her own. But I was wrong. After this incident, the former fear of losing him crept back into my heart. I became insecure and overly suspicious, and he started hiding things from me. Arguments began as a result.
It was in July last year when the company had a month-long vacation, and he returned to his hometown. That was the most helpless time for me—I had no job, and I lost my phone. Later, when I found a job, I was working long hours from morning till night. He rarely sent me messages, and more often than not, I was the one who initiated contact with him. Every day after he left, I looked forward to his return. Whenever I missed him, I wrote diaries or cried. He wouldn't understand why I cared so much, and even I didn't know why. I always wanted to be with him, living carefree together, but once we were together, we would argue. He had too many things he wouldn't share with me. Our interactions could be described as absolutely silent. Until one day, I checked his call records again, which triggered another storm. He had promised not to contact my classmate anymore, but during the entire month, half of his calls were to her. He didn't offer any explanation, and instead, he hated my actions deeply. I knew the consequences of doing this, but if I didn't check, he would continue hiding things from me. It seemed like he was deliberately doing this, leading to an inevitable conflict. This was the reason he always brought up whenever he wanted to break up with me, but I had a strong determination not to split up. By this point, hatred towards him might have occupied most of my heart, and I always wondered what mindset he had towards me, but I still didn't know!
With a bitter laugh, I realized I was heading into another battle... Quietly, I decided to walk away. We had lived too tiredly, and I couldn't bear this pain anymore. Looking at his still handsome face, only filled with too much sorrow now, I decided to let him go and free myself. Letting him be free also freed me from the entanglement. Thus, I chose... Goodbye, my love! In this life's journey, you brought me both pain and happiness!
Upon reflection, I realized I had made a mistake right from the start. Mistakenly giving myself to him and mistakenly believing that everything would be fine as long as I stayed by his side. I didn't know how far apart my dreams and reality would be! This love, or this hate, or this person caused me five years of pain. Yet, I know, no matter how deeply I hate him, my heart that loves him cannot change. Because he has been deeply engraved in my heart. For all that has passed, I have too many regrets because I can't let go of this relationship. Deep down, I still have a hope that he will truly love me once and accompany me through life. Knowing the impossibility of this dream, I find reasons to continue living in his world. He is my only spiritual sustenance.
I've gotten used to having him in my life, and I don't think about changing anything anymore. It seems like I have accepted living with him. However, this kind of life makes both of us feel exhausted. Upon reflection, all our arguments stem from the same issue.
Our acquaintance was quite accidental. I was still a student then, and during the summer vacation, I had nothing to do, so I went to work as a waitress. When I started working, he hadn't arrived yet, but on the second day, a new delivery boy joined our team—it was him. He was familiar with our hotel, and later I learned that he had worked here before. The first time we talked was during lunch. I don't remember what joke we made, but I fed him a bite of my food. After work, we happened to take the same route home, and he invited me to visit his place. At that time, I was staying at my brother's girlfriend's place, so I didn't go because it was late. People who work in hotels are generally good talkers. He belonged to the type of boys who look very clean-cut, always smiling, and very gentle.
Our relationship changed on the third day we met. My brother rented a house in Hongyuan. Since I was working here and had nowhere to stay, he offered it to me. That day, after work, he said his lease was up and he had nowhere to live. I casually suggested, "Why don't you come stay with me?" And that night, he stayed over. Initially, we chatted a lot, though I don't remember what we talked about. Impulsively, I gave myself to someone I had only known for three days. In the following ten days, he treated me exceptionally well, and at that time, I decided to follow him for the rest of my life. He gave me the happiest and most romantic period of my life, allowing me to experience the joy and happiness of mutual affection. However, the beautiful moments didn't last long. Before I could figure out the reason, he started avoiding me. I felt like a child who had done something wrong, wanting to ask why, but he didn't give me any chance. A feeling of being manipulated constantly followed me. To find answers, I followed him after work and found where he was staying. I questioned him, but he remained silent. I cried and made a scene, but it was all in vain. When school reopened, I was still immersed in the pain he had caused me.
That was the unhappiest semester of my life. Although I didn't let his issues affect my studies, I became sadder. I wrote page after page of diaries for him and cried countless times for him. Normally, I wouldn't leave the campus on weekends, but I lied to see him repeatedly. Every Friday, I would stay at his place, trying to change something. Later, I learned that he liked another girl. At that time, I didn't know that this was called betrayal and infidelity. I believed I could make him come back to me, love me, and care for me like when we first met. But eventually, when I heard he was leaving, it was during our school sports meet. I had no heart to participate in the sports meet and cried on my classmate's shoulder. I still completed my competition events, but when they ended, I fell seriously ill—a fact unknown to him, the person who had distanced himself from me.
I remembered he once gave me a phone number, but I lacked the courage to dial it. I kept asking a colleague at another hotel for news about him. The colleague told me he would return on a certain date because he had promised a girl named Jun, and he was returning for her—not for me. Regardless, I didn't care. As long as there was hope, I wouldn't give up because I had already recognized him as the one in my heart. Later, I heard that the girl named Jun wanted to break up with him. However, neither his return nor their breakup changed our relationship. Every time I visited him, he avoided me. Now, I don't remember what I was thinking back then. Was it due to that pure liking, or did I want to return to the romance he once gave me? One thing is certain: I recognized him.
This kind of life accompanied me throughout my school years until I was assigned to work in Hangzhou. However, this still couldn't stop me from missing him. I still entrusted my letters to my classmates to deliver to him and gave them my address and phone number. Each month's rest time, I specifically returned to see him. This continued until one time, after three months without seeing him, I went to find him only to learn that he had left again. It was the National Day holiday, and that year was also my 20th birthday. That day, I returned to Hangzhou on the train, tears streaming down my face. I didn't want to give up, so I finally dug out the phone number he had given me and dialed it. Perhaps heaven didn't want to disappoint me, and I contacted him just as he was about to leave. He said he would come to Hangzhou, and thus, in anticipation, I finally saw him at Hangzhou Train East Station on October 25th at noon. From the moment I saw him again, like a pearl returned to its shell, I told myself that I couldn't lose him again; I had to keep him by my side.
My once restless heart was shattered again. He lay quietly in bed, not saying a word. His phone received a text message: "Are the two of you fighting because of me?" The number 130****** stood out sharply to me. The last bit of calmness in my heart disappeared. I helplessly looked at him and coldly asked, "Do you have anything else to say?" He lay there expressionless, eyes tightly shut, making no explanation. The accumulated past surged in my mind, turning into hatred! In the eyes of many people, he was no longer worth me staying for, and I should leave him far behind. But I didn't know what I was thinking. I didn't leave him. I didn't allow him to contact that person anymore, and that was enough for me. But he didn't agree, and thus, the daily arguments over these matters began again. He gave me a deadline—no contact after the end of October! I didn't know whether I was wrong or he was wrong. In this endless battle, I finally gave in.
Life gained a little bit of calmness, but such days were too few. Various people kept appearing between us, and in my view, they directly threatened my love. He didn't understand my feelings. I was no different from someone easily startled. Regarding the women he frequently communicated with via text messages, I felt uneasy because he didn't give me any sense of security. His heart always drifted, always seeking more love to satisfy his vanity. And he only regarded me as a passerby in his life, a game of love that would end with us going separate ways.
The cohabitation life began from that day. Initially, he was determined to return to the place where he had worked before. He just said he would stay with me for two months and then leave. But deep down, I didn't want him to go. He spent half a month idly in the room, and finally, he thought about finding a job. Since he studied cooking, he naturally looked for similar jobs. But my thoughts were different. After several twists and turns, this person who never wanted to work in a company was persuaded by me to join a company. From the day he came to Hangzhou until a certain incident occurred, we lived peacefully, completely changing his past character. I indulged and relied on him in various ways, but I didn't know that such efforts would lead to a heartbroken outcome.
I remember that day was my birthday. I booked a cake early and went to pick him up on his way home from work. I noticed him sending messages with a smile on his face. I asked who he was texting, and he nonchalantly replied, "An old flame." I glanced at the phone number—it was too familiar. Bored, I sent a message: "Are you his girlfriend?" Because of this sentence, he accused me of harassing his friend, ruining my carefully planned birthday celebration. I thought I had made a mistake, misunderstood him! Life continued as usual. Another year passed, and October came again. The noisy days dragged on, splitting and reuniting, yet we still lacked the courage to let go. That October, his company said they would take a month off, and he said he would go play at his brother's place in Ningbo. We were still arguing and talking about breaking up. When I heard he was going out, I followed him. Due to work, I returned to Hangzhou on the evening of the 3rd. He still had no intention of coming back and ignored my messages. This made me very upset, and I urged him to return quickly. He did come back, but this return brought another "bloody storm."
It was noon on the 9th, and I wasn't feeling well. Because of my bad mood, I asked for leave and returned home. I saw the same scene from a year ago—my classmate, who had cried her eyes out in front of me, appeared again. On a scorching noon, the door was locked, the windows closed, the curtains drawn, and I saw two people looking flustered. I was speechless, feeling a pain so deep it couldn't be expressed, a feeling of being deceived. Just like before, I didn't cry. I sat there waiting for him to give me a reasonable explanation, but he didn't. When I sent my classmate off, she specially explained that there was nothing between her and him... I just smiled and didn't respond.
One wave had not yet subsided when another arose. Calmly, I told him not to have any further contact with that girl. I don't remember if he agreed at the time, but I know he disregarded my feelings and continued texting her, hiding it from me. My uneasy heart led me to investigate. Many times, I saw him chatting with the same number, and when I asked, he never answered. Unable to endure it, I noted down that number and called it. All I knew was that it was a woman. I made many calls but didn't get any answers. Later, I asked him to delete that girl's number. On the surface, he deleted it but changed her name instead. When I saw that number again, we had already argued many times over him sending texts to someone and intentionally not telling me. With my heart burning with anger, I kept calling that number. Eventually, a man answered—it was her father, confirming it was her. At that moment, I lost control and cursed her harshly. She denied it, and I couldn't control myself anymore. The next day, on her way home from work, I cursed her loudly on the street, while he acted as if he didn't know, ignoring it completely.